


sparkling joy

by thunderylee



Series: love february 2021 [5]
Category: NEWS (Japan Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Minimalism, Teasing, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Koyama helps Massu declutter.
Relationships: Koyama Keiichiro/Masuda Takahisa
Series: love february 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138346
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	sparkling joy

**Author's Note:**

> love february day 5: domesticity. koyama's been obsessed with minimalism lately and massu's trying to declutter so they basically asked for this. sorry the title is not good i'm tired.

Massu had thought Koyama was kidding when the older idol had offered to help him declutter, because who actually does that, but here he is standing on Massu’s front step with a box of trash bags and a smile.

“You came,” Massu says needlessly.

“I did!”

Koyama tilts his head questioningly until Massu realizes he needs to step aside. Koyama switches to the guest slippers without being prompted and Massu smiles at the thoughtfulness. He has to remind Nakamaru every time.

Koyama’s method of decluttering is rather aggressive for someone so docile—he dumps out the entire drawer or box and separates them into two piles right there on the floor. It already grates at Massu to have _anything_ on the floor, so it makes him go through them even faster.

He doesn’t subscribe to the “sparking joy” trend that’s going around, but he’s more than willing to part with things he hasn’t used in forever or find a better home for them if they’re backups. Clothes are a little harder to get rid of, even if they’re donated or handed down to juniors. He has a hanging shelf just for his shoes.

“You sure have a lot of cooking utensils for someone who doesn’t cook,” Koyama comments as he makes a face at a drawer.

“I cook,” Massu says, huffing at Koyama’s knowing look. “I do!”

“Then why is there a centimeter of _dust_ on your spatula?” Koyama asks, wagging it around for effect.

Massu frowns as the dust lands on his counters. Now he has to clean again. “I cook,” he mutters.

Instead of replying, Koyama quickly rearranges the contents of the drawer like some kind of organizing expert and tosses the extras into the bag of things they can recycle.

“If my _only_ spatula breaks, I’m coming after you,” Massu tells him.

“I will buy you a new one.”

Massu starts to roll his eyes, but then Koyama pulls his sweatshirt over his head and Massu’s highly distracted by the arm muscles stretching out the short sleeves of Koyama’s T-shirt.

“What?” Koyama asks, looking confused as well as incredibly hot with portions of his hair sticking up from the static. “I got warm.”

Massu just shakes his head and goes back to the junk drawer that’s now spread out on the floor, but he can’t focus. He’s not typically attracted to Koyama, but sometimes things just happen and he looks at people differently. Fleeting, often over in the blink of an eye, though having it happen with someone he knows very well who’s here in his apartment seems to keep the blood flowing through his veins a little faster.

He doesn’t often consider himself a very submissive person, particularly in bed, but right now he wants Koyama to pin him against the wall with those arms.

“You’re giving me a strange look,” Koyama says carefully. “And not even like when you stare off into space. You’re actually looking _at me_ in a particular way.”

“You spend a lot of time examining how I look at you,” Massu points out, doing his best to look nonchalant as he folds his arms and leans against the kitchen wall.

Koyama shrugs. “I like being looked at. Especially by you.”

“Why especially me?”

Another shrug. “Because you don’t really look at people. I like knowing that you think I’m worth looking at.”

Massu gets a pang of embarrassment, but Koyama’s smile makes it fade as fast as it had come. “You certainly don’t need me to tell you that you have nice arms.”

“Oh, it’s my arms?” Koyama steps a little closer, purposely flexing without bending at the elbow. “That’s good to hear. I don’t work out so that I can lift heavy things, you know.”

“Neither do I,” Massu mumbles, losing his composure with each step Koyama takes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Do you want me to do something?”

The tone is light and innocent, but Koyama’s eyes very much are not. Now Massu not only imagines being pinned to the wall, but also ravished with fire-hot kisses and maybe some desperate grinding. He gets even hotter just thinking about it, and Koyama’s smile curls into a smirk like he can see right into Massu’s head.

“What if I did?” Massu answers, standing as straight as he can manage, which is still several centimeters shorter than Koyama.

Koyama answers by slapping his palm on the wall, leaning forward in a perfect kabe-don that Massu would roll his eyes at if he wasn’t so fucking turned on. Koyama’s so close that Massu feels breath on his face, mint laced with a hint of coffee, and for a few terrifying seconds he thinks Koyama’s going to kiss him. 

“Then I’d tell you to finish sorting that drawer first.”

All at once he’s gone, pushing himself back up and trotting back to the kitchen like he hadn’t just pulled Massu’s world out from under him.

Massu clicks his tongue before he’s fully recovered, but Koyama just laughs and waves him away.

“Think of it like a reward. Motivation.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering,” Massu grumbles as he plops back down on the cushion and returns to separating screws and washers left over from various home assembly products.

“Oh, I do.”

Massu’s too distracted to focus, particularly when Koyama rolls his sleeves up even more to expose his entire arm on both sides. There have been rumors of Koyama being a huge tease in the past, and Massu doesn’t doubt that there is truth to them, but now he’s finding out in person.

An hour later, the urge has subsided a bit and Massu finishes relocating the drawer’s contents to more appropriate storage. Everything that remains is spread neatly throughout the drawer, though he knows that it’s going to mix the instant he puts it back into the stand.

Koyama had cleaned out the entire refrigerator and pantry, tossing everything that had expired and arranging what remained by category. The next time Massu did want to cook, he definitely wouldn’t know where anything was.

“I’m done,” he announces, walking right up to Koyama and staring into his face.

“Good,” Koyama replies. “Now you can go through the linen closet. If you haven’t washed it in over a month, it gets boxed up to donate. You can keep one extra set for guests.”

“What about my reward?”

Massu’s pouts, accentuating one of his own attractive features, but Koyama just smirks at him.

Then Massu finds himself backed up against the counter, caged in on either side by those strong, _bare_ arms. Koyama’s leaning down to get in his face now, staring at his eyes so closely that they’re almost crossed. Massu grabs him by the waist and pulls him even closer, his eyelashes fluttering shut as he leans in.

He half expects Koyama to turn at the last second, but he doesn’t, their mouths crashing together so forcefully that Massu’s back digs into the edge of the counter even more. Koyama doesn’t even pretend to be gentle and Massu loves it, tongues swirling the instant their lips touch. Massu’s hands slide up Koyama’s back, finding a thin layer of sweat from Koyama’s exertion so far today.

Massu has broken into a sweat of his own by the time they come up for air, or more accurately when Koyama tears his mouth away with a gasp like he doesn’t know how to breathe through his nose. Massu feels strangely proud, at least until Koyama pushes himself up and opens a cabinet of dishes.

“Do you use all of these coffee mugs?”

“What the...” Massu blinks in disbelief as he struggles to care about something _other_ than Koyama’s tongue. “Probably not. Why did you stop?”

Massu feels Koyama’s chuckle somewhere deep, though he doesn’t like the words that follow it. “You can have more after you box up the linen closet.”

Narrowed eyebrows have no effect on Koyama, neither do childish stomps down the hall. “I don’t like this game!” he calls out over his shoulder.

“Motivation!” Koyama yells back.

Massu smiles despite himself as he digs out old towels and washcloths from the back of the closet. At least now he'll finally get organized. 


End file.
